


Personal

by ChilledLime



Series: Werewolf Heart [2]
Category: CrankGameplays - Fandom, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Cleaning, Cuddling & Snuggling, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, M/M, Werewolf! Mark, Wound Cleaning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-10 10:08:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27968825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChilledLime/pseuds/ChilledLime
Summary: Ethan tends to Mark’s wounds.
Relationships: Mark Fischbach/Ethan Nestor
Series: Werewolf Heart [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2048396
Comments: 1
Kudos: 79





	Personal

**Author's Note:**

> tw: minor wounds mentioned and described in somewhat graphic detail
> 
> hihi so I am still working on sweet tooth but writers block sucks and I've been wanting to write this for a while. the rest of this series will probably just be short drabbles similar to this
> 
> this can be a standalone fic but works better if you've read the previous fic for context

The sun was starting to rise, peeking through the closed blinds in thin, bright strands; cutting through the dimness of the house like a knife. His fingers brushed against the cold wooden frame of the door, air conditioning quietly blowing from a vent nearby. Aside from that, the boy’s breath was the only other thing breaking the silence. It was always quiet - too quiet - when Mark was gone. 

Hopefully that wouldn’t be for long.

Stepping away from the door, Ethan went to go sit back down at the counter. Now familiar prepping materials sat neatly on the stone, and he let his gaze linger on them for a time longer. He had woken up an hour or so ago, the coldness of their bed without Mark itching at his skin, leaving him restless. Those were always the worst, when his lover was away in the dark of the night. 

Chica stirred, her claws clicking against the floor as she rested her head against Ethan’s knee. He reached down, threading a hand through her fur methodically. After a minute or so, she laid down under the seat with a quiet huff. 

The house was still once more. 

He wasn’t sure how long he sat there, looking nowhere in particular and thinking the same. 

A noise. The muffled sound of a garage opening.  _ Finally.  _ Chica shifted in her sleep, but didn’t wake up. As quietly as he could, Ethan extracted himself from the seat and walked over to the door. Keys jingled from the other side, and then it was open. 

“Somehow, I knew you’d be awake.” Mark murmured, stepping into Ethan’s arms. “You know I always will be.” He replied against the other’s shoulder, wrapping himself around Mark. “Now c’mon, let me clean you up.” He had long stopped protesting against it, not because he didn’t want Ethan to, but because he felt guilty. Ethan had told him it was  _ nonsense, now come here.  _

They stepped into the kitchen, Mark taking the seat he had been sitting in and offering his arms first. Small scrapes and cuts were sprinkled about, but no bruises, thankfully. Ethan opened the tube of ointment, putting a drop on his finger and massaging it into the broken skin. It was incredibly therapeutic to help Mark in this way, since he couldn’t be there to prevent them from happening in the first place. 

When they were suitably covered, he opened a band-aid and placed it over the biggest cut. “There.” Ethan said, mostly to himself. Stepping around the table, he stood around as Mark shed his shirt. A few bruises blotted the tan skin, along with a nasty looking gash along his side. “Getting into fights now, aren’t we?” He teased gently, taking the biofreeze from the table. 

He didn’t worry much about Mark anymore. He knew he’d be okay. 

Uncapping the container, he spread the cool gel on the bruises, evoking a quiet hiss from their owner. A hand found his forearm, and held onto it gently. “I have to disinfect this,” Ethan stated, taking the rubbing alcohol next. “I know.” “I’m sorry,” Mark gave him a peck as a way of saying  _ it’s okay.  _

Ethan dampened the cotton ball with it, and quickly pressed it against the open wound. The sooner it happened, the sooner it would be over. Another noise of pain, louder than before. His arm was squeezed tighter. Cringing, Ethan pulled the cotton away a moment later. Some dried blood had flaked onto the cotton, and he put it in a plastic trash bag. 

Retrieving another, he wiped away the rest of the blood.  _ Almost done.  _ The boy took a cloth and some tape, pressing it against the cut and placing tape on skin. “All better.” Mark kissed him again, properly this time. Arms snaked around his waist, and Ethan leaned into the older man. “I love you,” Was whispered against his lips. “I love you too.” 

When they had to come back for air, he looked lovingly at Mark. “Sleep?” Now that he was back, the tiredness he had been keeping away was back in full force. “Sounds good, dear.” Mark took his hand, stepping off the chair and around Chica, and led them to their bedroom. Ethan was the first on the bed, flopping ungracefully onto the soft mattress. His partner sat down next to him, pulling back the duvet and putting it over them. 

Mark opened his arms, and Ethan draped himself in them, pressed against the other’s chest. The boy wrapped an arm lazily around Mark’s waist, trying to get as close to him as possible. “Missed you,” He whispered, closing his eyes. “I missed you too.” The rumbles of his voice reverberated between them, and Ethan wasn’t sure he had ever felt this comforted before in his life. A kiss was pressed to his hair, and he hummed in contentment. The rise and fall of Mark’s chest was like a quiet lullaby, and soon enough he was asleep. 


End file.
